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More poems by Jean ToomerJean Toomer | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments | Books by Jean ToomerBooks by Jean Toomer

Cotton Song

Jean Toomer

Come, brother, come. Lets lift it;
come now, hewit! roll away!
Shackles fall upon the Judgment Day
But lets not wait for it. 

God's body's got a soul,
Bodies like to roll the soul,
Cant blame God if we dont roll,
Come, brother, roll, roll!

Cotton bales are the fleecy way,
Weary sinner's bare feet trod,
Softly, softly to the throne of God,
"We aint agwine t wait until th Judgment Day!

Nassur; nassur,
Hump.
Eoho, eoho, roll away!
We aint agwine to wait until th Judgment Day!"

God's body's got a soul,
Bodies like to roll the soul,
Cant blame God if we dont roll,
Come, brother, roll, roll!


Submitted by Stephen Fryer

Added: 19 Aug 2002 | Last Read: 24 Apr 2018 7:07 PM | Viewed: 6696 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/6667/ | Viewed on 24 April 2018.
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